Songs of the Morning

Songs of the morning in a Dutch village, where a girls sits upon a ledge watching it pass.

Songs of the Morning ~

 

Dedicated to Elisa Laura ~

 

 

The sweet sounds of a bird’s dulcet,

Light brush of a feather,

The girl rolls onto her back,

And she sighs wearily.

 

She calls aloud to the morning,

But there is no one to hear her sweet song.

Yet silver-belled music resounding,

They toll to the heat of the sun.

 

The sun had awakened the morning,

Fissures of light spring out,

The forest is aglow and pulsating-

With thumping of life abreast now ~

 

The girl hears the changes sadly,

And her eyes close as she bows low,

For her heart is waxed inside her,

On this day in the warm, sunny heat ~  

 

Pure white images cloak over her thoughts,

And traverse the lanes extending,

A sheer dress of pearl had woke,

The city folk rush towards its heart,

 And in the midst of bustling morning,

The one lone girl is forgotten,

And her silent song withdrawn.

 

The tips of the doves grace over,

And she extends a thin hand to a wing

But a shuddering rush is felt

And they fly away in their songs.

 

If only she could hear the music,

That above her ears had graced,

But the silver tones so sweet and dulcet,

Pass by her inner strength,

They drop their notes on the lake quickly

And the town around her awakes.

 

Sirens hustling, white roads trembling,

Beneath the strength of the roaring ache,

Of that ravenous human monster, and-

A bird’s mad calling, now imploding

She closes her ears to its cry, too late!

 

 

White stretches of lace roll off the dock-

As she stares at the workmen ahead,

The dregs of her life ring out about her,

And she slowly hangs down her head.

 

 

The birds chime out, and the sun gains measure,

But she-

She merely sits on her step-

Watching the city pour beneath her,

Like lightning that crackles with shame.

 

As purity is cast about her,

She sings to the tune of her heart.

 

 

 

Yet, for all of that . . .

 

If some poor Dutchman walked upon her,

They would have seen-

That there was very little else there,

And ignored the whitely-gleaned beauty,

Of the brightened city life-

For one dear heart, on the step ~

Reviews

[Foxemerald]

My dear friend, I can't thank you enough for making this one, I never forgot, and I had this poem, always in my heart, it took me a while to come back to you, for I had a several breaks here on WritersCafe... but I'm trying to be more around from now on. The poem, has so much strength, and gives us all a real peek into a Dutch morning, from a typical Dutch city-house, (I imagine here to live in Amsterdam) and the way how you capture the daily life there, on such a observing morning through her eyes, is mesmerizing. You have such a way with words my sweet friend, I can't thank you enough. It's good to see you again, and hope you are well, and happy, that you've traveled much, and can't wait to hear your stories! ((HUGS))

- Elisa

[Foxemerald]

Hi Elisa,

My very deep thanks for your words about this piece. I am gratified to know that you enjoyed this, as it was partly inspired by our writing chats. It is lovely to hear from you, and I am gratified by your return. Although I have had an extended break from the Writer's Café, having been caught up in the vice of full time work, I am wandering back to the flock slowly. I look forward to sharing my thoughts, to reading your work, and to enjoying the spiritual arts. You are a light that welcomes sights of the lost poet, and I send you my sincere thanks for your words . . . and your bright energies.

My deepest thanks, my friend. Sending you my strong wishes for your joy and peace,
Brooke ~

You are very welcome sweet Brooke, it's so good to hear from you too. I'm gratified with your return either, and in weekends I'm never much online here, but during the week I am. We definitely need to catch up, and have a good talk, with a cup of tea lol ;) Thank you for being so bright, and such a wonderful poetess to this place, one with class, and style. ((HUGS)) peace and love my friend, Elisa x